


Frozen

by rockysclouds



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Jean big dumb, POV Second Person, slow ish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29587284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockysclouds/pseuds/rockysclouds
Summary: It seemed that Sasha only listened to herself, only cared about what she knew to be right for her, even when she was seen as nothing more than a ravenous oaf. You, on the other hand? The opportunity to be revered as a hero presented itself, and you seized it, only for it to blow up in your face. [ . . . ] Now alone, you let out a deep sigh of relief. Instead of basking in your failures together, you can wallow unaccompanied.orJean and Sasha are alone in a snowed-in cabin and feeling cold as ice. How will they warm up?(Written in second person POV! Largely inspired by the ReiMin fic 'Winter Hike')
Relationships: Sasha Blouse/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 7
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Winter Hike](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168020) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> i'm back with more jeansasha yaaay!
> 
> first and foremost, i want to point to the reiner/armin fic 'winter hike', which although 'frozen' has a lot of different elements, the writing style and plotline are largely inspired 'winter hike'. unfortunately, it is under an orphan account and was written in 2014 so i'm unable to give proper credits to that author, but regardless of that, go check out theirs! 
> 
> second, i really took my time with this fic and i know jeansasha isn't the most popular ship and my timeline might be a bit off, but i really enjoyed how the first chapter turned out. 
> 
> kudos and comments are largely appreciated!!!! have a beautiful day <3

Everyone wants to feel loved. Whether they admit it on an individual level or not, it still reigns true. Some people, you think, are too proud to say they need to be needed. These people instead create a caricature of their ideal self and pass it off as who they really are, yourself included of course. 

You can’t seem to help it, the patterns repeat over and over again. You hear someone question if you’re capable, they insist that you’re not, and self-control is lost. When the fights are over and your eye is bruised, have you still won? Really, have you ever won?

The days drag on and the metallic taste of insecurity won’t leave your tongue. You consider the slim chance you have to distinguish yourself from the other squad trainee members, trying to keep in mind that the laughs you hear now won’t be around forever. Less competition for yourself, but even _you_ won’t be around forever. Less competition for everyone else.

When your tenacity and manhood come into question, you need to set your story straight. You want people to know what you’re capable of, which leads you here, struggling against a heavy blizzard with Sasha to find Ymir and Christa. The opportunity to be revered as a hero has presented itself, and you’ve seized it.

You see the flaws in your process that led you out in the snow with Sasha. Two friends go missing and a search party sends out on its way. Of course, there’s a better chance of finding them with more people searching, but your selfish desire to be acknowledged seeps through, staring right back at you. **Oh, Jean, you saved Ymir and Christa! Thank goodness they’re safe! No… Thank** **_you_ ** **, Jean.**

You shake the silly thoughts out of your head. Step one is being a hero, then comes being seen as one.

Your hands curl into fists, and you squint to look ahead of you. As you take a step into what you think is snow, your boot catches on what is actually a rock and sends you hurling forward. Your face lands in soft pillowy snow but your abdomen lands on something hard, and you swear you hear a rip as you come to your senses.

“Jean!” Sasha calls out, jogging closer to your doubled-over body.

You swallow the thick lump in your throat, eyes not meeting Sasha’s as you push yourself up off of the ground. Your face feels hot as you reply, “I’m alright. I only tripped.” You ignore the way your teeth chatter like you ignore her question and the sudden ache in your side.

“Your jacket...” Sasha’s finger points at the newly torn gash of fabric. She mentioned your jacket, but she means your shirt and undershirt as well. “Hey, we’ve gotta go back to camp. You’re going to get hypothermia.”

If only you were able to use ODM gear, then you could _easily_ zip through the wintry landscape and find your friends. You would be the one to locate the missing girls, wouldn’t you? You’d be a hero. They’d celebrate and love you.

Still, you wrap your jacket tighter around you, an attempt to cover the large gash in the fabric. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me.” At least, this is what you’re hopeful of. “We need to find them, they could be in real trouble.”

“You’re in real trouble, Jean, and we have the chance to help you before it's too late.” Her voice sounds like honey, but you can tell that worry is starting to take over. Her gloved hand takes rest on your shoulder. 

“Sasha, I’m telling you, there are more important things to pay attention to right now.” Perhaps you’re attempting to convince yourself alongside her. What is it, Jean, that you deem so important? 

“Please Jean, no. Not right now there isn’t.” Her gloved hand wraps tightly around your wrist, and she yanks you in the direction of camp. “We’re going back, now.” You catch a glimpse of Sasha’s face. Her eyebrows push together still, only this time they’re filled with determination.

* * *

It seems Sasha was right, you can’t stop shivering, your torso shrivels as the icy wind whips your face and snakes around your waist, up your chest. By the time you get to base, your fingers are milk-white and stiff. You let out a sigh of relief as you enter the doorway. It wasn’t the warmest, but nowhere near as painful as the blizzard. Sasha strips her jacket off, and kicks off her boots.

She then takes note of your hands and holds them gently in hers. Her hands feel hotter than they should be, as they graze over your knuckles and under your palms. “You need to get warmed up… maybe a bath,” She seems to be talking to herself and not to you.

Sasha guides you to a small bathroom down the hall, the smell of pine soon replaced by the soft smell of sheep’s milk soap. Shep lugs the bathtub and begins to draw a bath for you, and though you’re inside now your fingers are still white and numb, you still feel so _cold_ , as you remain silent. 

How humbling it is to have your inflated self-ego faced with your reality - of _course_ you wouldn’t be able to find Ymir and Christa. Maybe there was a reason you don’t receive praise as other squad members do. Out of embarrassment, you kept silent on the walk back from the forest, but you’re worried you might not look only incapable, but rude as well. 

“Sasha,” you clear your throat. She doesn’t turn to look at you, only stops what she’s doing. “Thank you, for uh… reeling me back in.” Your cheeks feel hot again, reliving the embarrassment of your trip.

“It’s alright,” She stands up and brushes off her knees. “We take care of each other here, right?” 

“Right.” You whisper back.

The two of you stand alone in the bathroom, neither cadet looking at the other. You think about how delightful Sasha’s voice is, like thick molasses or a sweet berry tea. You bet she thinks you’re stupid, though, even incompetent. No one else could be capable of doing what you did.

Sasha has never been one to care what the public opinion of her is. She has made herself a fool time and time again, publicly humiliating herself in the name of her own wants and goals. That’s how she got the nickname, right? You remember standing with the 104th recruits during Pixis’ speech, and hearing soft chewing. _What an idiot,_ you then thought to yourself. That was only the beginning of her hungry endeavours, as she went on to steal food several times after.

It seemed that Sasha only listened to herself, only cared about what she knew to be right for her, even when she was seen as nothing more than a ravenous oaf. You, on the other hand? The opportunity to be revered as a hero presented itself, and you seized it, only for it to blow up in your face.

“Well, I’m gonna start a fire, don’t let the bath get cold.” She flashes a smile at you, and squeezes your elbow as she exits the room. She smells of ODM fuel and black tea.

Now alone, you let out a deep sigh of relief. Instead of basking in your failures together, you can wallow unaccompanied.


	2. Chapter 2

You remove your clothes and leave them in a bundle atop of the toilet seat, your body tingling as you start to warm up. In the bathroom mirror’s reflection, you see bruises and scrapes from where you landed. Frowning, you graze the area delicately with your fingers - it’s sore and tender to the touch. “ _ Shit _ ,” you hiss. You’re lucky, you know. It’s only a bruise, you’re not out of commission.

You sigh as you slowly inch your right foot into the tub, followed by your left, and lower yourself down until the water reaches your ribs. The warm water soothes your aching muscles as it heats you up from the outside, and God knows you need to clean yourself up. 

You start with your hair, greasy from the day’s work and slick with sweat. You use a small bucket to pour water over your head, eyes shut. A small bar of soap rests on a built-in shelf, and you scrub it into your scalp before rinsing your hair with the bucket. You repeat this process twice and create a lather on your body. The soap stings over the cuts and scrapes over your ribs, but hey, maybe it’s probably good to clean it out and prevent an infection. You clean your body twice as well, and finish off your bath with a quick rinse under the showerhead just to be careful.

Exiting the tub, you shake the water out of your brown hair and take note of the relieved pain in your shoulders. You’ve held tension for so long, when was the last time you relaxed? You towel yourself dry as you reflect. You really  _ haven’t  _ gotten a chance to relax at all since recruitment, you haven’t even had a bit of privacy, these days. 

You quickly get dressed into a fresh pair of clothes that don’t belong to you, and look at yourself in the mirror again. You look clean, and smell much better, but you still feel dirty - filthy in such a way that you can’t wash off.

As you exit the bathroom with your laundry in hand, you shiver. Somehow it feels colder than it did before. “Sasha?” You call out, walking towards the common area, “I thought you were putting a fire on.” 

Sasha sits kneeling in front of the wood-burning furnace, she peers over her shoulder and grins at you, but it doesn’t seem to reach her eyes. “Yeah, I tried,” she stands up from where she sat, dusting off her knees. “The logs in here are too wet to burn… I guess that’s why this building isn’t being used.” 

You nod in response. The building you stood in was a little ways away from the main campsite, about a fifteen minute walk. You suppose it would be for a lookout but whatever the case may be, it’s occupied by you two now. 

The blizzard outside the window has only picked up speed, it whistles through the trees and the wind seeps through the crack under the door. If you squint, you can see the campsite down the road. That trek looks impossible to walk through and make it in one piece. 

Mirroring your thoughts, Sasha speaks up, “Hey, we’re probably gonna have to spend the night here, right? At least enough to ride out the storm.”

You nod again, your jacket’s still torn after all. 

Her cheery grin fades into a frown as she gets a closer look out the window, “I hope nothing bad happened to them… Do you think they’re okay?” 

Ymir and Christa, right.

Your stomach sinks as little as it dawns on you how selfish you’ve been tonight. You had a personal motive to look for them, and when you (not unlike your plans) had toppled, you could only focus on how embarrassed you were. Regardless of your situation, Ymir and Christa are still (to your knowledge) not found. 

Tentatively, you step nearer to her. You place your hand on her shoulder, just like she did to you. “Of course they are,” you reassure her. Unsure how to comfort Sasha, you decide to distract her instead. Squeezing her shoulder, you change courses. “Let’s go check out the bedrooms so I can call dibs on the best one.” 

“You’re on!” She breezes past you to the hallway, and you follow suit. As she begins checking the rooms on the right side of the cabin, you take the left.

The first room on your side has a desk, and a bed frame without a mattress. You think to yourself how odd that is, before opening the next door. Again, the bedframe lacks a mattress. You look into Sasha’s rooms, which mirror yours. You groan quietly to yourself, dreading the possibility of having to sleep on the dusty floor.

You repeat the process six more times, opening door after door only to be met with an incomplete bed. 

“Dibs!”

You rush to face Sasha and the room she’d opened. The space was scarcely furnished, with a desk against the right wall, but along the left side sat a bed with a blanket folded neatly in the corner. 

A sudden desire to be selfless (or shame from previous events) runs through you, and you make an offer, “I can take the floor, and you sleep on the bed.”

Sasha pauses for a few moments, looking into your eyes quizzically. She doesn’t seem as excited to have claimed the bed as hers. She’s probably wondering why you would volunteer yourself, but it’s the least you can do after all Sasha’s done. Give your hearts, right? Or in your case, give up the bed.

Before she has the chance to reply to you, you further insist, “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me. I can sleep anywhere.” This is a lie.

“Or,” Sasha caresses her left elbow with her right hand and looks sheepishly to the dusty wooden floors, “we could share the bed, I don’t mind, unless… you do?”

You look away immediately, your stomach tensing as you do. You feel yourself get red from the tips of your ears to your chest. Where you felt icy as night before, you suddenly felt uncomfortably hot. The proposal lingers in the air, still for a moment.  _ We could share the bed. _

Could you?

You open our mouth, as though to say something, and dumbly shut it again. You’re not sure what to say. You’ve grown to be overly comfortable with the guys, but Sasha is beautiful and soft, not at all like your male friends. You don’t want to embarrass yourself.

Then, your eyes look out the window, and you once again see the blistering blizzard outside, you remember the draft that came in through cracks in the window and slipped doors. 

“No, I don’t mind.” You answer her before you’re really sure of yourself. “It’s cold, maybe it’ll be good to share body heat?” The question sounds gross to you in retrospect, but Sasha doesn’t seem to notice.

You notice instead that she’s just as red as you are, and her arms are crossed tightly over her chest.

“I’m gonna wash myself up then,” she declares, before shuffling past you and down the hallway to the bathroom.

Alone again, you let yourself exhale heavily. Sasha had been acting differently all night. She hadn’t made any jokes, or laughed at your turmoil, or mentioned how ravenous she was. Maybe she felt weird being around you. What was different? Should you have gone back to base together instead of camping out here? After all, no one knows where you are, you’re  _ supposed  _ to be searching for your friends.

You peer out the window again at the endless snowyscape. The wind makes the wood of the house rattle, it hisses through the air outside. You can’t imagine they’re outside still, they’d freeze to death. Guilt pools inside your stomach. You could have done more, couldn’t you? You assume Mikasa will find the girls and bring them back to safety. If not her, maybe the captain would get involved - anyone, really… just not you.

As you sit down on the old wooden bed, it dawns on you that you and Sasha will sleep in the same bed together, with the same blanket. Your hands begin sweating with nerves as you debate the best way to approach the situation. 

_ We can’t sleep facing each other, too intimate. Maybe… I can sleep with my head at the foot of the bed? No, wait, there’s only one pillow, and I don’t want her that close to my feet… Okay, maybe, back to back? _

“Back to back.” You mumble to yourself. That’s probably the most respectful way to go about it, right? The bed is freezing as you let yourself lay down on the bed. You hold the blanket in your fists and kick it open over the top of your body.

You can really see now that this bed was meant for one person - laying flat on your back, you take up nearly the whole bed. Your turn onto your side, facing the dusty wall. You decide that Sasha could fit neatly behind you, so long as your bodies pressed against each other. You ignore the reeling feeling in your stomach. It’ll be okay as long as you face away from each other.


End file.
